The fear within

I vaguely remember having read a remarkable poem by Nizzim Ezekiel in school, where he poignantly described divergent streams that flow in each soul.nbsp;There has never been, nor can there ever be, a perfect being or thing. I can say with a certain pride that I have always felt compassion towards all living creatures. Although never actively involved with any animal rights group, I have always been a passive supporter of the cause. But the strength of my conviction in alleviating the suffering of animals was shaken by one seemingly mundane incident.

I have for ever been mortified by slithering creatures, including lizards. One day, while in office, I was repeatedly distracted by a lizard coming too close for comfort, destroying my concentration. As I cursed it, it fell from the wall under which I was sitting, missing me by the narrowest of margins. Aghast at the narrow escape, I leapt from my chair, and ran outside for dear life. After regaining my composure, I returned a few minutes later.nbsp;

What I saw moved me. The hapless lizard had got entangled in a piece of adhesive tape lying on the floor. It was fixed to its right hind leg, severely hampering its movement. Every time it tried to climb the wall to reach its favourite perch on the window frame, it fell down, after going up only a few inches. Its ordeal moved me, and for a moment I thought I should use a stick to remove the tape and assuage its misery.nbsp;But sadly, despite my best intentions, I could not garner sufficient courage to overcome my dread, and allowed my compassion to be buried under my fear.

Feeling ashamed, I wound up for the day, locked the room and departed, leaving the suffering lizard to its fate. The incident, however, refuses to let go of my conscience. If only there was a door which could be closed, to leave out unpleasant memories.